July 19, 2008
On the Spot Story
I was going off to war and my mother said, Wait a minute, you will need some sandwiches, so I leaned on my rifle and she came back after a while with a sack, and she touched my hair and said just one second–let me get a comb “Mama, I have to–” Won’t take a second, she said, You don’t want people thinking nothing matters to you but killing, and she went to work on me but dropped the comb and took up the issue of my shoes–Oh your father has some better than these; I think they’ll fit, let me go get them “Mama, I don’t have all day, I’ve got to–” You can’t walk long as you’ll need to if stone can get to your feet–but when she came back with them she needed my knife to make them fit, and in the doing of the work she slipped and cut her hand, blood pouring–It’s nothing she said, nothing worth making you late. “Nonsense, It can wait, Mama. Who is going to say I shouldn’t care about what makes a person want to do anything at all?”–They will say that. They will–”I don’t care, they can wait or kill me instead of me killing them.” Let’s eat a little something, Mama said. Let’s think.
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I decided to compose a thing in the post window–on the spot, with the understanding that I would hit the post button no matter what appeared. My appologies if it was for my purposes, in the end, instead of being worthy of your time.
There’s little if anything, I might see from Daryl Scroggins that I would think it weren’t worth my time.
Daryl, this is great. you should be proud.
It is great.
Ya know, I probably take more time to write a semi-coherent comment as you do to write a kick ass on the spot story.
Thank you for the kind words, my friends. I’m always deeply moved and humbled by your friendship and faith in the things I attempt.